


Scary Movies

by SupernaturalFlavoredLollipop



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural Novels - Various
Genre: Dean Winchester Fluff, Dean Winchester Smut, F/M, Friday the 13th - Freeform, Gen, Sassy Sam Winchester, Scared Dean Winchester, Scary Movies, Sleepy Sam Winchester, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 06:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3886372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalFlavoredLollipop/pseuds/SupernaturalFlavoredLollipop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean decides to watch a scary movie with you, even though he absolutely loathes them, and you find yourself his protector.</p><p>Request for crowley-with-tits</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scary Movies

I heard the footsteps pass the small living room, stop, and come back, before I heard Dean's voice ask “What are you watching?”

 

I had just put in a DVD and settled down on the couch. I turned and peered at him over the back of my sofa. “Um, just a movie.”

 

“You didn't think I might want to watch, too?” He raised a brow at me.

 

“Well... it's not really your kind of movie.”

 

“Oh God, did you rent 'Fifty Shades of Grey'?” Dean scoffed, but sat down anyway, looking a _little too interested_ to be making fun. “Is that even out yet?” He asked, also little too interested.

 

I gave him a strange look. “Um, no, it isn't out for rent yet, and no, that's not what I”m watching.”

 

“What is it then?” Dean gave me a smirk. “You're watching porn aren't you?!”

 

“Yeah _Dean_ , I'm watching porn _in my living room_ , with you and Sam crashing at my house.” I rolled my eyes, hard. “I'm watching a horror movie. I... I didn't figure you wanted to watch.”

 

Dean sat up a little straighter. “Well, you thought wrong.”

 

“Dean, you hate horror movies.”

 

“I don't _hate_ them. Hate is a strong word. They just, you know, aren't my favorite.”

 

I looked at him skeptically. “You almost threw up when we watched 'House of 1000 Corpses.”

 

“Well that movie was wrong on so many levels, I'm surprised it even got past the sales pitch. A mermaid man? Really, what the hell were they thinking? A hot, demented serial killer in daisy dukes? That's a travesty.” Dean shuddered. “And if Sam had seen that clown, he might have died.”

 

“Sam saw it, and he was fine.” I said flatly. “We saw it in the theaters together.”

 

“You... you saw it with Sam before you saw it with me?” Dean seemed wounded.

 

“Dean, everyone knows you hate horror movies!”

 

“Fair enough.” He scowled. “But I'm watching this one. I refuse to be considered the pansy of the group.” He scooted closer to me on the sofa. “What are we watching?”

 

I shrugged, and clicked the DVD back on. “Friday the 13th.” The opening credits began to roll. I expected him to last about 20 minutes before he made up an excuse for why he had to go to bed.

 

“The really old one?” Dean asked. “Like the hot Jamie Lee Curtis one?”

 

“No, I'm pretty sure that's 'Halloween' anyway. The one that came out a few years ago.” I replied, and we watched for a few minutes in silence. Dean got up and made some popcorn and returned with some beers, flipping off the lights and settling in cozily next to me. I snuggled up beside him. He put a tentative arm around me. Finally. We'd been flirtatiously bantering for days.

 

We'd only been watching for a bit when Dean made a weird noise, like he'd made a great discovery or something. “Does this main guy look an awful lot like Sam to you?”

 

I looked at the guy on the screen. He kind of _really did_ look like Sam. “Actually, yeah, he looks _a lot_ like Sam. That's weird.”

 

“Sam!” Dean called over his shoulder. “Were you in any movies in 2009?”

 

We heard a door opening down the hall, the door to my guest room, where I assumed Sam was being responsible and still researching for the hunt we were on, even though myself and Dean had obviously gotten tired of hitting the books about an hour ago. “What? Was I what?” I heard him ask, as his tall form blocked out the dim light from the hallway.

 

“Look at this guy. He looks just like you. Were you moonlighting as an actor in 2009 that we don't know about?” Dean laughed, taking a drink of beer.

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “No. I was probably saving the world in 2009. Oh yeah, I was, because I'm _always_ saving the world.” He shook his head, but I could see a smile on his face. “You two are morons. That guy looks nothing like me. I'm way better looking. I'm going to bed.”

 

He retreated down the hall. “I dunno, Sam, he's pretty hot!” I called after him.

 

“My hair is way better!” Sam shouted back, before closing the guest room door. I giggled.

 

“He looks exactly like Sam.” Dean said under his breath. “This movie isn't so bad. Not too much of a bloodbath-”

 

He'd spoken too soon. Pretty much immediately after he said that, people began dying in every imaginable way, and Dean, though putting on his best tough-guy bravado, began inching his way closer and closer to me on the couch, until he had practically pulled me onto his lap and was hiding behind me.

 

“Jesus Christ, Dean! It's a movie. Do you want me to turn it off?” I finally asked. I was on top of him now, and he was peering at the screen from over my shoulder, hidden behind my hair. I'm pretty sure the only parts of Dean that were visibly from behind me and underneath the blanket, were his eyes. The villain popped out of a stand of trees, and Dean jumped, spilling popcorn all over the place.

 

“No, no, I'm fine. Keep watching. Gotta know if Clay-Sam finds his sister.” Dean's arms had snaked around my waist in a death grip. I rolled my eyes. How this guy could take on Leviathans, Lucifer, The King of Hell, survive a year in Purgatory, and still get freaked out at a guy in a Hockey Mask on a TV screen was beyond me, but we all had our quirks I guess. At least I knew he was brave when it actually counted.

 

By the time the movie was over, I'd been on Dean's lap for quite a while. The end credits rolled. He was silent for a few minutes. “So like, almost everyone died.”

 

“Yeah.” I confirmed.

 

“That's a major buzz kill.”

 

“Yes.”

 

He sighed. I shifted positions so that I was now sideways on his lap, because my butt had fallen asleep about halfway through the movie but I hadn't wanted to move and Dean have a heart attack.

 

“Man I hate horror movies. They're really depressing. And freaky.”

 

“Aw, Dean, you didn't have to watch with me. We could have watched something else.” I put my hand up to his cheek. “I mean, I don't have 'Fifty Shades of Grey' but I'm sure I have something you could have gotten into.” I smiled devilishly.

 

“Woman, you do not want me watching 'Fifty Shades' with you. I guarantee I wouldn't last the whole movie.”

 

“You'd get scared?” I teased him.

 

“We'd end up in your bedroom.”

 

“Oh.” I knew we'd been flirting, and now cuddling, but I hadn't expected him to be quite so direct. “Well then...”

 

“Sorry. Sorry. Way too forward.” Dean hauled me off of him, and stood up.

 

“No, I was gonna say, we should rent it when it comes out.” I gave him a teasing smile. “Even though I heard it kind of sucked.”

 

Dean looked down at me, realization hitting him. I was into him. He was into me. He smiled. “Sweetheart, we won't make it through the movie. It doesn't matter if it sucks.” He dropped to his knees in front of where I was still sitting on the couch, surrounded by tangled blankets, popcorn, and beer bottles, and slid his hands to my waist.

 

“What are you waiting for Winchester? You've been hitting on me all week. You've known me for years. Your brother's asleep.” I looked at him through my long eyelashes. “Batter's up. Don't be the pansy of the group.” I repeated his phrasing from earlier.

 

“Those are fighting words.” He leaned in, whispering, his lips centimeters from mine. Then he grabbed the back of my head, pulling slightly on my hair, and kissed me, softly at first, then rough, mimicking the tension that had been building all week. When I couldn't take it any more, I hauled Dean up off of his knees and only the couch with me, yanking his shirt up over his head. He smiled at me, that devil-may-care smile that gets me every time. He pulled me back to him, stood, picked me up, and carried me down the hall to my bedroom, pretty much running us into every obstacle in the way.

 

“What the fuck are you guys doing out there?” We heard Sam's groggy voice ask through the door of the guest room.

 

“Nothing!” We answered in unison. I leaned up, my arms wrapped around his neck, and kissed him gently. We finally made it to my room, and softly closed the door behind us.

 

_Carry on my Wayward Son_

 


End file.
